


Darling

by Somedrunkpirate



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Pre-Slash, first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:48:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9408137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somedrunkpirate/pseuds/Somedrunkpirate
Summary: Dreams can be emotionally debilitating, nightmares are dangerous in dreamshare. Arthur isn't quite sure how to handle this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first real fanfic I have ever written or posted in my life. My traitorous writing muse compelled me to write an inception fic, you know the fandom with the most scarily genius writers in the universe. To say I'm nervous about posting is an understatement. 
> 
> But Victoria beta'ed this for me with Autumn's help and I am so grateful for their expertise and support. Something came out of the betaing process I am actually exited to post and see what you all think of it. I really really hope it is worthy for this amazing fandom! 
> 
> Also thank you Jody for your cheerleading and support, first with the meta's and now with fanfiction. I am 100% sure you are the one that kicked my muse in the butt and got me to actually write again. 
> 
> Find these magical people on tumblr! Their urls are Monologues91, Therealpigfarts22 and Boredpsychopath-jc respectively.

                             “Darling”

That is how they start their conversations. A familiar endearment, paired with coffee or a treat to smooth away an automatic frown.

_“Darling”_

He looked at his cards; a full house. He wasn’t quite sure how that was possible when he felt so empty.

His coat was drenched. It stuck to his skin uncomfortably.

It had been raining, in London; it’s pouring in Rome. The sun shines in Lisbon. He shivered. It was cold in Amsterdam.

He looked back down, but the cards were gone. All that remained was the table: oak, heavy, dark. He saw a strange man’s reflection in the wood. The face was pulled tight in confusion and fear. He searched his pockets for something, something important. But all that came out were a handful of poker chips. They fell to the ground, through the ground. He watched them fall, surprised by their presence.

He hadn’t won the game.

 

*****************************

The sound of the front door unlocking woke Arthur out of his slumber. It was late; no sunlight shone through the open windows.

_“Darling?”_

Arthur relaxed; there was no danger. He lay back down as  creaky stairs announced the presence he had been waiting for before he fell asleep.

“Darling.”

Eames said it with a soft smile as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.

“Good trip?” Arthur mumbled, his voice rumbly from sleep. Eames didn’t answer. He just leaned in to press his lips to Arthur’s. Arthur smiled before pressing back in response.

There was nothing there. No pressure, no feeling. Cold panic wrapped a vice around Arthur’s heart. With a trembling hand he cupped Eames’ jaw: there was no sensation.

“Darling?”

Eames was frightened, Arthur could tell. He didn’t understand what was happening. Arthur wanted to comfort him, touch him, wrap his arms around him. He wanted to say something, something important. But when he opened his mouth, everything melted.

*****************************

Arthur opens his eyes and looks around blearily. Beside him, Eames sits on a chair and grins at him.

“Darling, so polite of you to join us. How was it?” Eames looks at him curiously as Arthur takes a few deep breaths. “Did it work?” Eames questions again. Arthur shakes his head to rearrange his thoughts and spots Yusuf behind a desk-turned-laboratory.  

Warehouse, experiment, work. Something clicks into place in Arthur’s mind. He pulls out his IV smoothly, ignoring his trembling hands. Eames has dropped his grin and is watching him carefully.

“Darling?”

Arthur shudders and stands up. He straightens his waistcoat and walks to Yusuf in a few short paces.

“Disorientation, no control; I didn’t know I was dreaming.” Arthur sums up shortly. He takes another deep breath. Eames has joined him and is leaning casually against the desk. He looks concerned, but grants Arthur his personal space. Arthur is absurdly grateful for it.

“I looked for my totem but I didn’t know I was looking for it, I found only–” He cuts himself off quickly and resumes his composure. “I wasn’t in the state of mind to realise that there was something off. Emotionally compromised. If I came close to recognising dreamstate, the scene changed again. I had no control whatsoever.”

Eames sighs and looks away, his right hand fiddling with his poker chip. Arthur starts and pulls his totem out of his coat pocket. He walks to a desk behind him and rolls the die. After four times rolling three, he stops and puts the die back, exasperated.

Arthur had forgotten to check. He had forgotten to check _reality._ This was unprecedented, unprofessional. It spoke worlds about how shaken this mix had made him. Arthur lets his shoulders drop and puts his forearms on the desk. His mind feels muddled, like it’s blinking in and out of reality. This scares him more than anything, even more than the contents of his dream.  

“We put it down as a fail then?” Yusuf’s question shakes Arthur out of his reverie.

He shrugs. “It isn’t what we are looking for, definitely. Not stable enough to hold dreamshare. I think we would get lost in it.”   

Yusuf, always the scientist, rounds on Arthur, his interest blatant. “Like limbo?”

“No.” Arthur is feeling a little more solid now. His recollection of the strange dream is still clear, but it feels more faraway. “It was more like a dream, a natural one, just more… potent.” He straightens and crosses his arms, trying to project a posture of cool professionalism. “My personal insecurities and thoughts—wishes—formed the basis of a scenario that is highly unrealistic, a nightmare. Potentially emotionally debilitating.”

Yusuf rushes back to his makeshift lab and writes the data down excitedly. “Not realistic you say… Examples?”  

Arthur resigns himself to his fate and sits down on the nearest chair. He folds his hands in his lap and crosses his legs in an effort to feel comfortable. Eames has quietly relocated himself into Arthur’s personal space by pushing his chair next to Arthur’s without a word. Arthur suppresses a sigh, and an eye roll. Eames catches it nonetheless and smirks.

“At some point I was in multiple places at once. Before I woke up, everything melted around me.” Arthur pauses and wrings his hand. “Someone was touching me, but I couldn’t feel it, in the dream.”

“All this and you didn’t realise you were dreaming, at all?”

Arthur nods in confirmation and closes his eyes. A warm hand on his shoulder makes him tense for a second but grounds him still. “I didn’t hear the kick coming. Honestly, I’m surprised I woke up. The dream felt deep.” The hand tightens around his shoulder before pulling away, leaving cold air in its wake.

Yusuf looks up from his desk and puts his pen down. “Dangerous?”

Arthur nods again and takes a deep breath. “Maybe useful for torture, or interrogation after the dream. It took a while for me to get my thoughts in order. Its effects on someone less experienced could make fertile ground for asking the right questions. But it’s too unreliable now, and I wouldn’t know how to experiment with it safely. Besides, even if it could be used for those purposes, a regular extraction is most likely more effective, so the arguments for this use are maybe void anyway. The darker elements of it are notable because–“ Eames stills him with a pat on his arm.

“Darling, we will write it down and file it away neatly and see what we will do with it on a later date. Now, rest is in order. We’ll debrief tomorrow. You look dead on your feet, love.”

Arthur shakes his arm off, prepared to snap at Eames, when Yusuf makes a sound of agreement and shuffles off abruptly, mumbling about feeding his cat and chemical equations that don’t make any sense to Arthur.  

“Goodnight to you too, Yusuf,” Arthur says drily and Eames chuckles, a low rumble that makes Arthur shiver.

“That man lives more in his head than we do, which is an accomplishment, to say the least,” Arthur remarks while standing up. As he makes his way to his gear and puts it in his leather briefcase, Eames laughs softly in agreement. Arthur looks back at him curiously; Eames has been especially quiet today. No teases about Arthur’s freak-out, only a few words of comfort. Arthur is grateful for it, but can’t help to be suspicious.

Eames, however, was right. Arthur is exhausted. He puts the thought away for another day.

While Arthur is preparing to leave, a soft clicking sound makes him pause. Eames is still on his chair, slouched in a comfortable if not annoying position. He is lighting a cigarette. When Arthur looks his way, he looks back cheekily, as if daring Arthur to lecture him for smoking inside. Arthur just rolls his eyes and lets it go. He walks to the exit of the warehouse.

“You’ll close up?” He asks before turning around. Eames nods and looks away, taking a pull from his cigarette. Just before Arthur closes the door, he hears Eames calling him.

“Darling?”

Arthur blinks hard and turns around for one last time. “What.”

“Up for a drink?” No leer or grin this time. No teasing. Arthur’s heart pounds, panic surges: it feels way too similar to the dream. His hand twitches for his totem.

“No. I need to. I just need to–” He turns around and stalks out of the warehouse.

Eames takes another pull and breathes out slowly. He sighs.

“Fuck.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. All remaining mistakes are mine. Find me on tumblr! Somedrunkpirate is the url, just like here. I would love to get some feedback, I want to write more and be better every time. 
> 
> Again, thank you.


End file.
